


black and pink

by akire_yta



Series: prompt ficlets [401]
Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Gen, art feuds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 11:09:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9068992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akire_yta/pseuds/akire_yta
Summary: thebaconsandwichofregret asked for: Blackest black vs Pinkest pink: Fischler is Anish Kapoor, Brains is Stuart Semple?





	

It started in college, back when Brains was unsure of everything, including himself.

Langstrom had been everything Brains wasn’t – confident, powerful, popular.  Even with his craziest schemes, people seemed to _want_  to play along, and Brains found he wasn’t immune to the charm effect.

So when Langstrom got up on the common room table and announced his challenge, Brains found himself nodding along.

“Of course,” Langstrom had concluding, shrugging in a poor parody of humility.  “I have already created the blackest black anyone will ever make in pigment form.  Behold!”  Two of the junior lab techs obediently trotted out, holding between them a square that seemed to suck in all light.

Brains felt his jaw drop slightly; the applications this could have, for stealth technology alone.

Langstrom was shooing people away.  “This is mine, no-one else can have it, the patent is already pending,” he told them.  “My challenge to you is to invent a better colour than THIS!”

After the worst of the crowds had melted away, already talking excitedly about the new colour, Brains stepped forward.  “You have p-p-patented it?” he asked. 

Langstrom nodded, too big and too loud for an audience of one.  “This is going to make me my first fortune.”

Brains thought of his final project, the crowning achievement of his doctoral program.  Mr Tracy had been kind, overly generous in supplying Brains everything he needed, but this colour would save him several weeks of trial and error.

Langstrom just folded his arms and sneered as Brains put forth his case.  “Nope,” he said bluntly.  “This is mine, and you can’t have it.”

Brains narrowed his eyes.

 * * *

Colour was a fascinating subject, so deeply context specific.   The way materials moved and folded in on themselves at the microscopic level could change the final hue in subtle ways, or leave you with a grey mess.

It was engrossing work.

Mr Tracy came by the lab personally, on the first of every month, to check on progress and spread his wealth around.

Brains only became aware it was the first once more when he looked up to see Mr Tracy peering with interest down into the Erlenmeyer flask Brains was working with.  “That is…very pink,” he said with polite blankness.

“But not pink enough,” Brains admitted.

“Why are we making pink?” Mr Tracy asked, craning his neck to see.

Brains turned up the heat of his burner, ready to force the chemical reaction if need be.  “To crush my enemy and seize victory.”

Mr Tracy took a step back.

 * * *

Most people had treated Langstrom’s contest as a bit of a joke, the usual range of crayola colours lined up on the wall.

Brains’ pink stood out like a beacon, almost eyeball-searing in its intensity.

Langstrom was stood before it, mouth open, eyes wide like he had seen the face of God.  “I need this.” He turned, grabbing Brains by the lapels.  “I _need_  this.”

“Sorry,” Brains said smugly.  “Patent pending.  It’s mine, and you can’t have it.”

Langstrom’s eyes narrowed.

 * * *

Brains had an Instagram account only because Moffie stole his phone and made him one.  So it took him a moment to decode the icons flashing on his screen.

“Someone’s tagged you in a picture,” Moffie said helpfully, looking over his shoulder.

Langstrom had used his middle finger to dip into the pot of Brain’s perfect pink.

“You know,” Moffie said casually.  “I’ve never understood why people talked about breathing fire until just now.”

Brains slammed his phone onto the workbench.  “M-Moffie?” he asked.  

“Yes Brains?”  Moffie was grinning; she knew him too well.

“Do you want to go steal some ultra black with me?”

Moffie pulled a balaclava out of her hoodie pocket and pulled it on.  “Lucky for you, I know where he keeps it.”

 * * *

Even standing a few feet away, the prototype almost disappeared against the darkened horizon.  Mr Tracy’s hand was firm on his shoulder.  “Amazing work, Brains,” he praised.

In his pocket, his phone continued to vibrate alert after angry alert.

 * * *

Reverse engineering was a marvelous thing.  Brains broke apart the blackness, figured out how it worked, made it better.

Langstrom stopped using pink after his stolen vial ran out.

 * * *

It had been years since college.  Brains tugged at his tie, frowning as Moffie batted his hand away.  “Leave it, Brains,” she told him. “Oh look,” she added, glancing over his shoulder.  “Langstrom must have gotten leave from the judge.  Shall we say hello?”

There was a crowd around Langstrom; even with his very public failures, he still knew how to work a crowd.  “Brains!  Moffie!” he greeted them like old friends.  He blinked, taking in their outfits.  “You look, uh, dashing in pink there, Moffie old girl.”

Brains adjusted the pink flower on his lapel.  “It’s always b-b-been a favourite colour of mine,” he said smugly.


End file.
